


The Naked Policeman

by whopooh



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Nudism, at the beach, fun and flirting, naturism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whopooh/pseuds/whopooh
Summary: The one where Phryne asks Jack for a favour—to go undercover with her at an establishment that has received death threats. What she fails to mention at first is that it’s a naturist beach.





	The Naked Policeman

**Author's Note:**

> In a slightly silly chat, we discussed Phryne and Jack in relation to naturism or nudism, and I started wondering what would happen if Phryne asked Jack to come with her undercover to a naturist place? This is what my brain came up with. I hope there might be more takes in the future, as there is great potential for different scenarios (looking at you teaandbanjo). 
> 
> Naturism was à la mode in the early 1900s and spread through the world. It feels completely natural that Phryne would encounter it through her friends and enjoy it. Jack, perhaps not as much.

“I need your help, Jack.”

Phryne rested one hand on his desk, sitting in the visitor’s chair before him. Her face was open and earnest, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Jack looked at her speculatively, trying to suss out her level of sincerity. He knew she was aware of what those words did to him—that he found it incredibly hard to say no to anyone asking for his help, and even more so to the women in his life.

 _A woman in your life, am I now, Inspector?_ He could hear her teasing, slightly sultry voice for his inner ear; it seemed he didn’t even have to say things aloud anymore to know what she would retort. 

He smiled his small, self-deprecating smile as he watched her over the desk.

“And that’s a line I never manage to say no to, isn’t it, Miss Fisher?”

“Excellent!” she exclaimed. 

Her satisfied smile as she leaned back gave away something of her game—obviously there was more to this than just the wish to solve a case. 

“Let me outline the details for you. I was at a small, secluded establishment at the beach the other day, spending some time with friends—” 

He gave her a pointed look; there was something far too breezy in her manners and her voice had that higher pitch he associated with her not being entirely truthful. She noticed his look and added, “—not that kind of friends, Jack. Friends from the Adventuresses’ Club.” 

“Ah.” He didn’t look particularly less tense from that statement, and she plunged on. 

“Anyway, that’s beside the point. This establishment has been sent threatening notes, and we found glass and nails laid out in the sand with a clear intent to cause harm. Bella was lucky she didn’t run straight into them when she played badminton on the beach. She could have destroyed her feet completely. Someone clearly wants to hurt them. And yesterday, they received a death threat.”

She laid the note before him, pointing at it with her finger as if he couldn’t make out the words for himself. He nodded, then flicked his eyes to watch her again.

“And you want me to come with you, undercover, to find out who the culprit is.” It was more a statement than a question.

“I do.” Her voice was solemn, but her eyes sparkled with far too much amusement.

“What’s the catch, Miss Fisher?”

She gave him her most innocent look.

“I know there’s something, Phryne.”

“Well, since you ask,” she said, changing her position on the chair self-consciously. “The establishment may be catering to a slightly specific interest.”

“Such as?”

“It’s a naturism club, Jack.” 

He stared at her, seeing her lips turn up into a small curve. 

“I suppose I’m not really asking you to go undercover, Jack. It’s more going uncovered.” She smiled her brightest smile as she rose. “I’m so grateful you promised to help me with this. I couldn’t do it without you. And I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure.”

Before he managed a protest, she was gone.

 

*

 

“Collins!”

The summons came close to ten minutes after Miss Fisher had breezed out of the Inspector’s room and out of the station, giving a quick wave to Hugh on the way. 

He'd been expecting his superior’s bark and hurried to oblige, in the process forgetting to put away his pen. The sight he met was rather familiar: An Inspector Robinson seated in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was one of the ways Hugh was used to finding the Inspector after Miss Fisher had just left. The other times, when he was smiling, were usually preferable.

“Sir,” Hugh said, standing straight.

The Inspector looked at him, contemplating.

“You’ve been showing good progress lately, Collins.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I think it’s time to put you in charge of a surveillance.”

Hugh’s eyes grew large and he fumbled with the pen in his hand.

“What, me, Sir?”

“Yes, Collins.”

“Thank you, Sir!” Hugh said, desperately trying not to show how excited he was. “Of course, Sir! What do you want me to do?”

Jack paused for a while. His brain had spun feverishly ever since Miss Fisher had left him, trying to figure out how to deal with the request he had promised to heed. Doing an undercover job, with no clothes on, with Miss Fisher—it was out of the question. As if he hadn’t been thoroughly affected just by seeing her naked form in a painting. And as if his dreams lately hadn’t given him ample opportunity to think about exactly how she would look in the nude. No. There was no way he would do that. He wasn’t sure if his biggest fear was that he might make a fool of himself by showing her too much of his feelings, or that he might be so distracted he would fail to do his work. Or—a more far-reaching fear—that he might take her in his arms and kiss her. 

His solution was simple. Hugh was an athlete, used to the half-dressed state in the boxing ring. And if his constable got to see a few naked women before his wedding, it was practically educational. The lad could need the experience. Jack felt reassured by his own reasoning, not paying too much attention to the part of his mind shouting that he was a coward. Of course he was. Quite an enormous coward, but he was still going to do it.

“You will join Miss Fisher to find out who is threatening the members of a bathing place. You will both pretend to be regular patrons of the establishment. Keep your wits about you and collaborate with Miss Fisher to keep as much of the place as possible under observation.”

“Yes, Sir!” Hugh beamed with pride. “I won’t let you down.”

“Two hours from now, and this is the address,” Jack said, watching the way his constable tried to stand as straight as possible. “Behave as if you don’t know Miss Fisher and keep your distance. Watch out for any unusual behaviour. We have reason to fear there may be an attack.”

“I see,” Hugh said, still trying to fathom the responsibility he was given.

“Oh, and one more thing, Collins. You won’t need a bathing costume.”

 

*

 

Phryne wondered for a moment if it had been cruel to ask Jack to come to the naturists’ secluded part of the beach. She knew he would be uncomfortable, and she counted on it to be rather amusing to see him fumble. She looked forward to enjoying the fine figure he would undoubtedly cut, and she was intrigued to see how he would behave. But it wasn’t as if she’d concocted a case to draw him out—it was a real case, she had just found a way to include him in it. 

These people, who didn’t harm anyone and who had done nothing to cause aggravation except behaving in a slightly eccentric way, were now under threat. She couldn’t just leave them. When she’d told the manager that, he’d been incredibly grateful.

She had gone to the place out of curiosity, when her friends Bella and Tia from the Adventuresses’ Club asked, and she had found it quite refreshing. All these people, walking around, naked as the day they were born, all comfortable and relaxed. She had never been ashamed of her nude body, and she wasn’t about to start now. Stretching out in a sun chair under a large parasol, she had indulged in the air caressing her body—there was nothing inappropriate about it, and she felt some of that empowerment Tia had talked about, being nude in the company of benevolent strangers. She might have spied on the other bathers a little bit from behind her sunglasses, but the location made her not think about sex, or beauty, or even that much about individual bodies at all. It was quite intriguing.

But today, as she sat under a parasol, idly watching groups of people playing on the beach while waiting for Jack, she realised she wouldn’t be able to keep up that way of thinking. Not when it came to him. This was the man who could make her feel unsettled by unbuttoning one single button, and she almost felt daring just imagining him in shirtsleeves and braces. She laughed at herself—what had she been thinking? She was supposed to be focusing on the case, and she had invited Jack Robinson to join her, naked? A nude Jack strolling around on the beach, perhaps sitting down beside her, trying to talk about the weather? 

This was, Phryne realised with equal amount of humour and chagrin, a terrible idea.

She had enjoyed teasing him, surprising him, and thinking about him, but the thought of interacting in public with an uncomfortable and fully naked Jack… suddenly it wasn’t such a simple prospect. He would be stripped of everything he usually clung to—professionalism, propriety, his suit as a kind of protection. He would have nothing of that, and, equally important, _she_ wouldn’t either. All because of her whim. What if their partnership didn’t survive it?

In that instant, she saw a movement from the corner of her eye and realised someone was coming from the changing rooms. She bit her lip and looked away out into the sea, before checking herself—there was no room for her to turn into a shy maiden now. She had put them in this situation, she would simply have to deal with it. She had managed worse situations. She turned towards the entrance. 

But there was no Jack walking through the sand. There was instead a stunningly beautiful specimen of a man, a young Adonis with a bag over his shoulders, walking with an energetic spring in his legs—his muscles well-defined, his shoulders broad, his whole body speaking of vigour and power. Phryne drew in her breath in astonishment and admiration. Then she caught his eye and realised she was ogling none other than constable Hugh Collins.

Hugh had scanned the place and all its groups of naked bodies, and he had obviously recognised her. She could see his eyes quickly grazing her and then just as quickly looking away—a deeply worried frown on his brow, and soon after a blush colouring his face and chest. She was about to call his name when he made a tiny gesture with his hand, and she remembered they weren’t supposed to know each other, but to keep watch over the place from different angles. She nodded and looked away.

The constable sat down quite a bit from Phryne, on a towel in one of the sun chairs placed on the shore. They both sat with their senses heightened, watching for irregularities, sometimes meeting the other’s gaze. 

When it happened, they were both on their feet immediately. Phryne turned to see a man draw a knife from under his towel and set out towards a couple of women close to her, wielding the blade threatening in the air.

“You are sinners and deviants!” the man shouted. “You will go to hell!”

“Put that down!” Phryne shouted as she fished her gun out from her bag and aimed at the man's head; she saw Hugh come running from the other direction. “Put that down or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.” 

Before he had the chance to respond, Hugh was all over him, knocking him down and securing his hands behind his back with handcuffs. He must have brought them in his beach bag.

“You’ll be coming down to the station with me,” he said, and Phryne was struck by the authority in his voice. She assessed him. He sounded more assured than she had ever heard him, and he did that without a single thread on. She was impressed—his grace, his strength, and his obliviousness to the awkwardness of the situation. He seemed older, somehow. Surer of himself.

As he took hold of the handcuffs to force the man to walk, Phryne met his eyes and smiled appreciatively. Her look made him blush and as he managed to stumble on his own feet, he almost made the man in front of him fall. Hugh looked flustered and made an apologetic sound.

“So,” Phryne thought to herself. “Back to normal, then.”

 

*

 

“You sent your constable.” 

Phryne sized him up as she poured him a generous drink. He’d come over for a nightcap and was standing by her fireplace, leaning on the mantelpiece as he watched her. The attacker from the beach was locked in a cell, and Phryne had sent Dot and Hugh to the pictures. Hugh deserved a wonderful evening as a reward for the day’s work.

“I hear Collins did a good job,” Jack deflected.

“He did. You can be very proud,” Phryne said. She tilted her head and met his eyes. “And he looked admirable while doing it.”

Jack gave his almost invisible smile and quirked an eyebrow, accepting the glass she handed him, but didn’t speak. She took a sip of her drink.

“That was a brilliant choice, by the way. To send Hugh.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You bested me. I suppose it was wrong of me to ask you to come in the first place.”

He blinked slowly at this surprise admission.

“Are you… are you apologising, Miss Fisher?” he asked incredulously.

She tilted her head to the side as she carefully chose her words.

“I can see it would have put you in a… not entirely comfortable situation.” 

He gave her a chastising look—that kind she knew he primarily used to hide his amusement.

For a short moment, her face turned serious. “I wouldn’t want to strip you of your defences, Jack. I respect you too much for that. I’m not trying to be cruel.” 

He tilted his head at that, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Well, not overly cruel, at least,” she amended. She broke into a bright smile. “On the other hand, was it really such a big favour to ask?”

“It was a reasonable request, Miss Fisher,” he conceded. “In some ways. The threat needed to be taken seriously, and you did.” He paused as he swirled the liquid in his glass for a moment, his eyes flicking to hers. “But there's a limit to what a person can be subjected to and still be able to do his job. It seems you found mine.”

“Not fond of nudity?” she teased him gently.

“I suppose it all depends on the situation.” There was a tiny smile on his lips.

She watched him, wondering where his limit was for this evening, and whether she ought to try to push him over. 

“So,” she finally asked, her face very still as she pronounced every word carefully, “is there a situation that could make you embrace it?” 

He gazed at her, his eyes large and dark as he took a deep breath. Without noticing it, she swayed slightly towards him. 

“There might be, Miss Fisher,” he answered—but he kept his ground, his eyes speaking of all the things he wasn’t prepared to let his body act on. He leaned more heavily back on the mantlepiece and took another sip of the whiskey, watching her over the rim. 

“There might be,” he repeated. “But I doubt it would be in public.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you olderbynow for reading through and suggesting improvements ❤︎


End file.
